


Understanding

by Trekgloria



Category: Poldark (TV 2015)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-04
Updated: 2017-09-04
Packaged: 2018-12-23 19:11:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11996163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trekgloria/pseuds/Trekgloria





	Understanding

Understanding    
  
    Suddenly the cold permeated her, a coldness she knew too well and it made her sick to death. Then the feeling of fear rose and that begat a blinding rage. Demelza was sure she would loose what she'd eaten earlier or pass out.  She struggled to remain upright, she had to leave, get away from where she heard those wicked words which brought such a feeling of choler. A relapse, isn't that Dwight called it when a sickness left you, but then returned?  He had said she'd never again be sick with the Putrid Throat, she had crossed through that fire and survived, though many times Demelza had wished she had died and not Julia, not Julia.  Even now, with Jeremy and Clowance she still felt the loss, the pain, the sorrow.  Most days she managed, accepting you cannot change the past, you cannot raise the dead, but must simply go forward.  But this sickness was not one she was immune to, rather it waited somewhere in her soul and now with those words, she was ill again.    
    Walking away she felt that she was cleaved in two.  Part of her remained, the weak Demelza, but the strong Demelza had to move on, had to go forward.  The two parts of her could not exist together just now.  The pain had to be separated to bear it.  The weak Demelza would suffer, the strong Demelza would rise and fight it.  Isn't that how Dwight had described a body fighting an infection.  One part would sink into a blackness, while the stronger part fought, we just didn't understand how that happened.  Suddenly she knew, part of her was in that blackness, unable to function, much like she abed, but today she was aware of the stronger part, following it, she had to fight the sickness that tore at her body, her mind, her soul.    
    Flooding her mind, Demelza remembered the many instances where she worried about Ross and Elizabeth for so many months after Francis died, and even after that night and their reconciliation.  All those times fanned the spark of that disease and kept it viable.  She went to Ross and asked, no confronted him on this.  But his reply, no concern of hers.  Then she shared that she knew of the kisses, the secrets.  No denial, a simple not like that, but no denial.  And when Demelza walked away, Ross did not follow.  That was his answer, he let her walk away, that rammed the truth of the tale into her heart, as painful as a dagger, plunged and twisted.  He had lied to her, his vow to her was worthless. Bitter as gal the thought of Ross with Elizabeth, kissing her, in the church.  Had they made a troth she wondered.   How long before they, before they...she could not frame the thought.    
    Demelza  returned to the house, but was it still her home?  She had entered as a scullery maid, raised up to be the mistress of this estate, and yet she now realized how hollow that had been.  A marriage was only a binding of two, but it meant nothing if the two were not true.  And Ross, again, had not been true.  This had been her fear, her worry, what kept that spark of disease festering.  He had proven he was no more than a breaker of his vows, sneaking around, still like a lovesick boy for Elizabeth. And as he said when he came home from that night, he could not help himself.  Those had been his only true words to her. She knew now the perfidy of which he was capable.  
    And then she saw Hugh there, just as Prudie had said.  Waiting for her like so many other days, he'd just appear and ask for her time, a few minutes, just a few minutes, please he would beg.  At first it was only kindness, consideration for anyone who had suffered as he had. She often was in that role of healer, delivering babies, caring for others with some sort of ailment or injury, even the local livestock benefited from her healing skills.  And she knew it often was just the listening that someone needed, to know they were appreciated, wanted, cared for, that was part of the treatment.  Whether it was Dwight's or her potions she bade them swallow, or a clean dressing, even just holding a hand till sleep overtook them, it was the presence, the willing to listen, to be there, she believed was as healing as the draughts.  Even Dwight agreed, people needed people to heal, as the heart and mind were often hurting as much as the body.  
    Hugh smiled at her, he always smiled at her she realized.  He reached for hand, drew it his mouth and kissed it.  He was always trying to touch her. Courteously she had thought, taking her hand whenever he could, an arm offered, though often he would simply bush against her as they walked side by side. Casual, but Demelza knew he craved to touch her.  When they walked on the beach, a favorite pastime as he said the bright light allowed him to see much clearer without straining his eyes, and the smell of the sea so fresh helped him forget the stench of the prison, or the sound of gull crying as they flew overhead made him think of heaven and what he hoped it would be like there.  But always he held her arm as they went down the path, and held it even when they reach the flat sand, just a little longer than was necessary.  And she realized she wasn't eager to let his touch go. That caress, tender, respectful, some days was what she needed, just that little touch, intimate, but innocent.    
    Hugh read her face and saw she was upset.  Solicitous, concerned, kind as ever, he inquired was anything wrong, had something happened, had he come at a bad time?  No, she replied, unable to either share with him or  articulate what had just happened.  The strong Demelza could not manage even that.  Tired, perhaps she offered.  Too tired to walk on the beach he asked, his eyes had been bothering him recently he said.  He knew soon he would loose all sight and wanted many memories, especially of beauty, most particularly of her beauty, before, well before the end.  Demelza smiled at him, he offered compliments, gentle, thoughtful, and without guile.  She linked her arm in his and they left, crossed the yard towards the beach.  How often had she gone to the beach, for food, for play with the children, for walks with Ross, to wait for the return of people when away, to mourn, or just to be alone.  The beach seemed as much a part of her as the house, her garden, the land.  She felt better on the beach, the sound of the surf, the breeze, the constant ebb and flow of the tide.  The sea could offer bounty and destruction, it was a reflection of life.  Today, she needed any bounty it could offer for destruction was already within her.  They walked, along the cliff to the steep path leading down to the sea.  Hugh held his arm around her waist to steady her as they navigated the rocky path, she leaned against him and felt how warm he felt to her coldness.  Today, when they reached the bottom of the path, she didn't pull away, but allowed him to hold her for a moment longer, then slipped her hand in his.  The breeze was balmy, but did little to warm her.  Only where he touched her did she not feel that cold which permeated her since hearing those words, Ross kissing Elizabeth.  As they walked, Hugh told her what Dwight had said.  It wasn't his eyesight only he was losing, rather that was just part of what was wrong, and there was no hope.  Not only was he going blind, but his death was imminent.  As his eyesight failed, so would his body.  Blindness would precede death for only a short time.    
    Her heart broke for him.  Demleza remembered the first time she saw him, on this very beach, that night, worried for Ross, her brother Drake, Dwight, the other men, she had waited fearful for who went on that fateful journey.  When she realized that Captain Henshaw had died, she wept, truly for a good man.  But, deep inside her, in a secret place she dared not share, she felt relief first that it wasn't Ross.  How could she even allow herself to think such a thought, yet she did.  She loved Ross with such a passion, even needed him in a way she did not understand.  That is why Prudie's tale had struck her like a blow, knocked the wind out of her, and she was gasping to refill her lungs with air.  Like a baby drawing that first breath, it was necessary, but painful. Like a baby she wanted to cry at the feeling, but could not, crying was left with the weak Demelza.  The strong Demelza could not descend to that state.    
     They sat and Hugh spoke of his fate, his time was short.  But he looked to what he had, and counted her friendship as one of his most cherished, though he desired more, he wanted her.  Demelza reached to comfort him, much as she did when Jeremy fell, pulling Hugh to her to cradle him, to soothe him, something she was comfortable doing for others.  It was herself she could never comfort, just pushed the pain down, deny it, hide it, refuse to acknowledge it.  But as she reached to comfort him, it was a feeling of comfort she received.  Where he held her, she felt soothed, where he touched, she felt warm.  Her feelings for him entwined with her feelings for herself at that moment.  She could cry for him, if not for herself.  She pulled him close and offered her face to his.  That kiss, first so gentle like a child's, but her return was hungry, eager, needful.  What she required was the feeling of safety, of trust, of love.  Where had that gone, and then she remembered, Ross took that from her his night with Elizabeth and the knowledge of his continued deceit had awakened that memory of that loss again today.  And though he had swore to never again allow Elizabeth to come between them, Ross was unable to fulfill that pledge.  She had been a fool to allow him to return to her, to bed her, to put another child in her womb, all the while still longing for, desiring, and loving Elizabeth. And, Demelza, knowing in her heart Valentine was a child begat of Ross on Elizabeth that night.  How could such a love from the past, such a bond be denied or broken.  She had always been second best, the kitchen maid raised above her lot. Too late Demelza had believed Ross, trusted even when she could see his struggle to have done with Elizabeth.  Avoiding wasn't the same as overring.  And, what Prudie had seen, how many other times had they met and escaped notice, or was Purdie the only one who dared share this affair  with her?  
    Even as Hugh held her, kissed her passionately, she wondered at Ross, at herself, at her future.  Surely it was as doomed as Hugh's. She and Hugh shared so much, a love of the natural beauty abounding in the land, of comely words put together to make one dizzy when hearing them.  Hugh wanted her, not Elizabeth, he desired no another woman, he craved Demelza.  His words, his actions, his attentions all focused on her.  There was no ghost of a lost love between them.  His eyes looked at her, his words uttered to her, his hands sought to touch her.  With Hugh, she never had to compete with someone else.  In that moment all the sorrow she felt, the loss of trust in Ross, the fear of Elizabeth, the pain of the unreturned passion was cast out.  Hugh offered her respect, a certitude of trust. Demelza could feel the coldness slowly leaving her body, it was Hugh's warmth replacing it. Something Ross used to do, when she needed him, when she could trust him.  How lost she felt, how safe Hugh made her feel. His needs and hers like complicated puzzle pieces suddenly fit perfectly.  There on the sand, alone yet exposed to the universe he held her, he touched her, he summoned her. Words had rarely been necessary with Ross, a look conveyed so much, his touch informed her.  But today, words had been spoken that injured and blighted what she valued, once again the anguish she had experienced was rampant.  Demelza needed something to overcome this pain, needed to drown out the words Prudie had said.  As Hugh held her Demelza felt the air rush back into her lungs and she could breathe again.  
    Hugh was gentle, not rushing her, he was winning her, not she leading him.  He sought her, he wanted her.  Demelza slipped into a world where she was the desired, she was the beloved, she was courted, revered above all others.  Is this what Elizabeth knew with Ross?  To be so adored, so craved, so beloved.  What that felt like, it made her shiver, with fear or anticipation she could not tell.  He stopped, was she cold?  She had been, but he had warmed her, no, not cold she offered.  
    He looked at her so lovingly, he touched her face, her skin was silky, he stroked her hair, soft it caught in his fingers, he called her beautiful.  Then he kissed her gently, pulled her against him, held her head and cradled it. She found this time in Hugh's arms a balm to her pain.  Every touch brought a thrill, her loss became a longing that needed to be sated.   Her hands pulled him closer, she put her head against his chest and listened to his heart beat.  She felt a pang of despair to know it would be stilled forever, that he would leave her.  He offered her so much, though what could she offer him. She accepted his caresses, she responded in kind.  What formed in her mind was a new thought, one she'd never experienced before, she desired someone other than Ross.  She reached for Hugh, pulled him closer.    
    Demelza could not say the words, but only guided his hand to show her consent .  Hugh kissed her again, then pulled away and began to loosen her bodice, exposing her breasts.  He reached for one and held it like a man who has found a jewel, his touch was so delicate, so soft.  Then he dropped his head and took one nipple in his mouth, at first he just held it delicately, then slowly began to suck and she felt her body respond.  A moan grew from her and she arched her back towards him.  Realizing she was desiring him, Demelza moved to remove his coat and shirt.  His chest exposed, so smooth, firm, and yet soft.  He had not the muscles of a man who worked the land or mines.  His skin was pale, yet there was still a healthy feel to his body, belying what was to come as his future.  Demelza ran her hands over his skin, when she touched him he moaned and whispered her name.    
    The sand accepted their bodies and cradled them, the tall grass formed a veil hiding them, and sea drowned the sound of their ardor.  Slipping off her dress, Hugh looked at her body, not one that had borne three children, nor one that had made love to another.  He saw only the body of the woman he desired.  She tugged at his pants  and slipped them down his legs, his boots and sock were off, then his pants, he was naked beside her. Demelza needed to be held, like the near drowned who have loss their own body warmth, only skin to skin could return the heat.  She craved to be loved.  For the first time she would know a man other than Ross, other than her husband.  But Hugh had not broken her trust or her heart.  
    Hugh seemed to sense her hesitancy behind her willingness.  He cradled her, spoke of her as his greatest desire, he kissed he, long and passionately.  His hands seemed to revere her body as he explored it.  When he touched her, she moaned and pushed herself against him.  He responded to her needs, but took his time.  Demelza felt the passion and was in that moment of desire, and reacted to his every caress.  She was drawn to his body, to explore it in turn.  Her hands cupped his face and kissed him.  Demelza ran her fingers though his hair and pulled him tight to her.  In no hurry, lost in the moment, time had no meaning for them.  Hugh traced every curve and mound of her body with his hands, following with kisses, which left her whimpering, still he held back, fearing to dishonor her boon to him should he yield so quickly to the carnal desire that he felt.  He had attained today what he had desired since he first met her on this beach.  To rush to the finish so quickly, what had been so long desired, would cheapen what she was granting him.  Could he but hold her forever would still not be long enough he told her.  Pressing his body against hers, though she looked weak and fragile, Hugh felt the strength of her body.    
    Their passion grew and finally neither could control their desires.  Hesitantly, respectfully Hugh placed himself between her legs, pulled her tight and kissed her.  Demelza, her breath coming hard, was aching to feel him enter her.  She felt his hard maleness press against her.  For a moment she faltered in this decision and shrank from him, but the hurt, the ache for a love that was unconditional was a stronger force and she pushed against him as he began to enter her.    
    Feeling her recoil as he entered her, Hugh feared she would stop him, but then as suddenly he felt her thrust her hips to meet him.  As Hugh entered and filled her, Demelza gasped at the feeling of another man taking her in such a way. What she had only known with Ross she now understood was but an act, it was the purpose that made it important, that defined it as love.  She knew there was no love for Hugh, a kindness, a regard, even a carnal desire, but not love.  That feeling she realized remained only for Ross.  She could take another man, even desire him, but love she could not bestow where it did not exist.  Could she come to love Hugh she wondered?  He shared many of the same things she loved about Ross, and he possessed many qualities she would  appreciate, but something was lacking, though she could not name it, it was not present.  She could be satisfied with Hugh, and she could provide  much of what he needed and desired.  And he could also please her, but that mattered little.       
    However, the physical yearning was in control of Demelza now.  He kissed her passionately, and she returned them.  Her body met his every thrust, each stroke as he pushed his manhood into her brought a gasp. She realized, her kindness offered to him all these months was a way to satisfy herself, to feel what was lacking between she and Ross.  With Ross there had never been a courting, only a slow building of wanting each other.  Demelza's desire and even love for Ross had emerged in her as she developed from a young girl to woman.  Ross had been everything to her.  But it was she who had seduced him and always felt his marrying her was a fulfilling a sense of honor or perhaps she now thought it could be anyone, because if it wasn't Elizabeth, it didn't matter.  Even as Demelza believed Ross fell in love with her, it was born out of their shared life, not preceded out of a wanting and a desire. That had been his experience with Elizabeth, Demelza had offered herself to Ross before he even wanted her.  But today, this joining, this passion shared with Hugh was the result of a desire and yearning, this was not a result of an imbalance of ardor.  With Ross, Demelza had given herself without an expectation of return of his love, in reality Ross never had to want yet not have her. She was a convince, an outlet.     
    But this feeling, this act of sex was rewarding in being the culmination of a shared yearning.  Demelza understood now what Elizabeth must have known that night, a man whose desire was so complete, and in the case of Ross, that he would break his vows to have you.  Yet is was Demelza who was breaking her vows. Still it was heady stuff to be the object of such a desire.  Feeling that increased her response, she pulled Hugh tight against her, raised her hips to his thrusts, and as her own climax began wrapped her legs around him to hold him firmly within. She reveled that she, and she alone in this moment could so be desired by this man.  
    Hugh, fulfilling a desire of months now experienced an arousal and the need to release his seed in Demelza.  With each stoke the throbbing brought his climax, he cried her name over and over.  She in returned moaned as her own release began.  The pressure she felt was aching, but his words, his thrusting brought her a relief, and she was warmed through.  As Hugh released his seed, he collapsed on her and inhaled her scent.  She had given him everything he wanted.  He was satisfied.  Demelza felt him relax on her and realized, they had both sought and found something in each other to satisfy their anguish of this day.  Hiding her face in the cradle of his neck, Demelza wept silently, no tears, just the anguish which had formed inside her could now be released.  And in that moment, Demelza realized this was the weaker of her parts.  The stronger had remained behind, fighting in the darkness, the weaker Demelza had followed the pain.  
    Her silent sobs, Hugh mistook for the lingering passion and he clasped her tightly.  Demelza clung to him not wanting to break apart and end the comfort she found in his arms.  Yet, as they exhausted their passion, Demelza realized she must return to Ross.  As penitent or profligate, she was unable to fathom.  
      


End file.
